


A Formal Gathering

by SolarMoon59



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 17:04:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4313235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMoon59/pseuds/SolarMoon59
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Russia and America's bosses have them attend a soiree.<br/>Russia/America</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Formal Gathering

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for towritebycandlelight on tumblr during the 2014 Rusame/Amerus Exchange!

Formal gatherings weren’t their favourite type of get-togethers, in fact, Ivan in particular would rather be anywhere but here in the enormous gathering room decorated to even the ceiling with whites and platinums.  Of all things it had to be white. How cliché could their bosses be?

Regardless, they were here now, Ivan dressed in his sharp-looking dark grey suit  with matching tie, both coloured perfectly to match each other and supplement the Russian’s light skin. The damn cord round his neck was nothing like his favoured scarf; if only he could have worn it instead.

 

If there was anything that made this worth it, it was Alfred, who stood besides him. Ivan knew his lover could be wary of his true nature, but honestly, it was seeing what he wore that would hopefully make the night worth-while. The dress Alfred wore matched Ivan’s in colour. A tight tube dress, grey with black trim that mimicked the formal undershirt of a suit complete with buttons and a suit jacket over top to do the most it could to cover his manly shoulders. The nation tugged on the jacket, smoothing it down self-consciously over his stomach area - trying to be discreet as he made sure he wasn’t bloated or anything else equally mortifying that would attract the attention of the other party-goers. He kept glancing down to make sure he was seeing what he felt as well. Damn, these events always had him on edge. How was he supposed to enjoy himself when he was worrying about others’ internal opinions of him? Ugh.

Alfred took in a deep breath and raised his eyes to meet his boyfriend’s - whose eyes were on Alfred himself and most definitely not looking disappointed or disgusted in the least. A fluttering feeling bounced around in the blond’s chest and he gave the Russian a tight-lipped smile, weaving his fingers through the other’s in order to anchor himself and not initiate immediate mouth-to-mouth contact. “What’re you staring at?” he tried to joke, voice as tight as his smile from nerves.

His grip tightened round Alfred’s, and he only returned his own restrained smile, violet eyes moving from his angelic form to the party again. “I am merely admiring my lover’s good looks, yes? You do not wear dresses very often.” He knew why, of course. Alfred was self-conscious, and considering that he was a man wearing a dress, it was difficult to show his true colours.

Under no circumstances would Ivan allow anyone to offend Alfred though, not unless they would like a bottle of champagne shoved down their throat.

“I am not really eager to join in with the others… I prefer something non-formal.”

Alfred nodded in agreement to Ivan’s last statement, although he was mostly preoccupied with the feeling of their hands pressed together rather than what the taller male was saying. Ivan’s hands were incredibly warm for such a cold nation. That would explain why he always thought it was chilly wherever he went - his body temperature was higher than most.

“I’d really prefer being closer to the alcohol,” he said with a wanting glance across the room. That would mean traversing the minefield that was their fellow countries. And he did not want anyone asking him about his new relationship. Not that he hadn’t already received numerous Facebook messages and tweets on the subject, but he’d ignored pretty much all of them for the sake of his sanity.

The questions directed Ivan’s way tended to end quietly, since most others didn’t care to risk the Russian’s wrath. He may or may not have also threatened them with dismemberment.

“There is no vodka over there,” he replied glumly, looking across at the long table, draped over with white cloth. It was mostly wine, as to not allow any of them to get quickly drunk. It was probably for the best, but Ivan didn’t like it himself.

Instead he turned to Alfred, wrapping one arm round his waist gently. “Perhaps we should dance instead.” Perhaps show off that yes, they were together, and that Alfred could wear whatever he wished and still look drop-dead sexy.

“Urgh,” the blond groaned in frustration. “The one time I need some strong shit they don’t supply it.” He gave the Russian a nod at the mention of dancing. It would help to distract himself from the  spreading whispers of the other attendants. “Might as well. I’ve always wanted to embarrass myself in front of everyone I know.”

“Such a negative attitude, I thought you liked dancing?” He chuckled quietly, pulling the other towards the middle of the room, stopping and leaning over his lover, kissing his lips tenderly. “I am sure they will not mind, and this is a good time to show off, hm?”

Alfred let out a puff of air, frowning slightly at the other. “I’m not being negative. Just truthful.” He clung to Ivan’s hand as they walked, squeezing his hand instead of apologizing out loud. When they stopped, Alfred opened his mouth to make yet another remark about how dancing was not at the top of his ‘Do This in Order to be Publically Embarrassed’ list when he felt Ivan’s lips on his own and he melted into it instantly. “I guess so.” He pressed against the Russian’s broad body, beginning to sway his hips to the gentle music.

Following his movements, Ivan allowed Alfred to have the lead. He knew how much his American lover simply had to be first, so he put aside his pride, if only slightly, to give him just that.

As the song progressed, their foreheads touched, beginning to swing slowly to the music. “… You look wonderful in that dress, dorogoy. You fill it out nicely, such beautiful curves…”

Truly he meant it in a positive way, he really did.

Unfortunately, Alfred didn’t take it in such a way.

“Excuse me?!”

“Ah-all I said was-”

“You’re calling me fat!”

Alfred’s voice rose steadily, onlookers beginning to take notice at only the few words that were said. He bared his teeth as he stared Ivan down, the Russian coming to the realization that yes, Alfred had misunderstood him. Completely.

“I was not referring to your size, dorogoy, I was complimenting you-”

“That’s not what I heard!” In hindsight, that comment didn’t sound nearly as bad as he had heard it. Slowly a light pink tinge came to his cheeks, shifting his weight from heel to heel in realization. No way had he made some sort of mistake! All it really did was frustrate him even more than hearing his own boyfriend offend him (which he didn’t).

“J-just stop talking, your making it wor-”

“You are the one who mistook my comment as an insult-”

At this point, both of their voices attracted a decent amount of attention, and though Alfred could have sworn he heard Arthur calling to them to calm down, words that were easily brushed aside by Alfred’s growing frustration and Ivan’s building anger. They were easily a volatile pair, and they were about to make that known…

~~

The beautiful ivory table where the wine had been displayed was now broken to pieces, coloured wines staining the material to the point where it would likely never come out again. Food was thrown round the area, laying about wherever it had last landed.

“It's  _your_  fault we’re being kicked out, you’re the one who called me fat in the first place!”

“We already discussed this, you were the one who took my comment negatively.”

Both males bickered as they were escorted out by two men in suits, both only vaguely interested in the bickering in front of him. Couples always had the worst fights, much more terrible when they were countries. Ivan was sporting a bloody nose and a black eye, while Alfred donned bruises from his exposed arms to his cheeks, the Russian having torn it in the fray. No doubt both put all their strength into their little spat.

As they finally began to cool off, Alfred glanced at his lover, a small smile touching his lips. He had misunderstood the comment, he knew. He also knew they were both idiots.

They were left outside, Ivan looking to Alfred with both irritation and amusement. “Smiling already? We just finished beating each other in front of everyone, I thought you would want to continue.”

Eyeing the ruined suit and his own stained dress, the American only laughed softly, wiping the corner of his own mouth, then shifting to Ivan’s side. “We look terrible man, I really got you good.”

“… you are very interesting Fredka.” He returned the smile, wrapping his arm round Alfred’s waist once again. “Da, we should go to the hotel, I have had enough of misunderstandings for the day.”

In the end, they decided that formal gatherings were out of the question.


End file.
